Redecorating
by IamTerra
Summary: The walls were just too plain for Marik, so he brought home some fresh meat, a young girl named Anna. Her blood should liven up the place and Bakura just could not resist wanting to help paint the walls crimson. Psychoshipping, death, gore, ect.


(WARNING: Lots of bad things happen, if you have a weak stomach, don't read this- also, if it are not into gore, don't read this. One last thing... If you love fanfiction so much, please do not report authors unless they are stealing someone else's work. Don't report them for creativity just because you think is it too risky or something of that nature.)

The walls were plain, so terribly plain and white. It was annoying, really, how miserable these poor walls had to have been, being white all these years without a single mar of color to them. So saddening, but not anymore- Marik laughed as he picked up the little girl by the front of her blouse, thrusting her backside against the wall with a loud thud. Today, the walls would not be thirsty for color, for today was the day Marik was going to paint them scarlet.

Pleading with the man for her life, the girl kicked her legs violently as she wrapped her tiny hands around the tan man's one that held her against the wall firmly. "Please," she choked, unable to finished her sentence as Marik added more pressure to her windpipe, crystal clear tears swelling in the young female's eyes as he now sunk the tips of his fingernails into her pale skin. Little Anna's gasping was increasing showing the taller of the two that it was virtually impossible for her to breath. Perfect for Marik, though horrifying for little Anna.

"You should have known better then to take candy from a stranger, my dear," Marik purred as he fished around in his pocket for his knife. "Especially me. Didn't your parents ever teach you that everything comes with a price?"

Over in the corner, Bakura watched his partner, grinning with glee and wanting to join in, but deciding Marik could have the fun for now. He knew the psychotic man preferred the torture to the eventual kill anyway, while he loved the blood and the gore it brought afterwards. They were the perfect team.

Grinning broadly, Marik was finding himself short handed, fuck- where was his knife? The wide grin was now dulling down into a smaller one by the second. "Shit," he snarled, dropping the girl onto the ground as he searched the other pocket coming up short again. "Bakura, a little assistance- I seem to be missing my piece." Normally, that would mean a gun, but to Marik, anything could be a weapon. Sadly, he didn't think he had any on him.

Bakura reached into the waistband of his jeans and pulled out the knife he always carried with him. It was crusty with dried blood and other amounts of gore, and he licked it tauntingly before digging it into the flesh of his own tongue then tossing it to Marik. While he watched, he stuck his fingers in his mouth to gather the blood and smeared it across his neck. Licking his lips in a seductive way, he spread the red liquid around even more.

"Mmm, thank you, Baku-ra," Marik loved stretching out the other's name tauntingly as he caught the knife and watched for a moment, feeling himself get a bit turned on but forcing himself to turn back to the girl who was attempting to crawl away, holding his own throat. Such a pretty little brunette with long flowing hair. She must have been her mother's pride and her father's joy- Ah, what fun this was going to be.

Using his foot, he kicked up under the girl's arms and rolled her onto her back before promptly sitting on her stomach, his legs pinning her arms down at her side. Ah, what a lucky girl she was to have Bakura's blood to mingle with her own, even if it was just a trace amount...

The white-haired ghost of a man still watched from afar, feeling generous for letting Marik have his fun, but also growing rather bored of sitting on the sidelines. He wanted to taste her blood, her tears. He delighted in hearing her frantic squeals and screams and begs for mercy. Mercy? That word didn't exist to them. There was no mercy, only pain and suffering and torture. Bakura crept closer, looking at how the girl spun her head around to look at him, and for a second he saw the delicious glimmer of hope in her eyes before it was squashed by his maniacal grin.

Pulling the other frail limbs out from under himself, Marik held it tightly in one grasp and he placed the tip of the knife to the soft skin of her upper forearm. "Slit, slit, slit the wrist, all the way down the vein," He chuckled between words as the knife trailed farther down the arm in a deep slide over a pretty little blue hidden line. "Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, end all the pain," He mused at his own version of "Row, row, row the boat" as he finished at the wrist and held the blade in front of himself, quite fond of how the blood ran down the silver item.

Bakura grinned a Cheshire grin at the sound of her delightful scream. Oh, how she cried! Tears were streaming down her face even more now that she had realised there was no escaping her fate. He slinked up behind Marik and wrapped his arms around his shoulder, nipping at his ear. "Mariku~." He purred, playing with the strands of hair under his fingers. "When do I get to play?" He noticed the girl had gone silent while gazing up at the two in complete and total fear.

"I suppose you should now, or she might die before you get your chance, like the last one," Naturally, he was referring to their old killing grounds. The one where the walls were never denied such rich red hue. The blonde Egyptian purred as he climbed off and gestured to the girl, signaling that she was all his prey now. "I've got to redecorating to do anyway," he mused with a grin while placing two fingers to the flat side of the blade and clearing it of blood. Perhaps he should write a short poem on this large canvas commonly known as 'the wall'.

Briefly watching his partner's actions for a moment or two, Bakura turned back to the little girl who lay helpless on the floor. She wasn't even struggling to get away any more, she was resigned to her bloody fate and was more than likely hoping it would be quick and swift. That would all depend on whether or not Bakura hit the wrong veins or not. "Pretty little girly whore, just a mess and nothing more, just bloody flesh and meat and bone, don't you wish you could go home, terribly sorry my little dear, I'm afraid you're going to stay right here." Bakura sang, his smile wide and bloody from his slashed tongue. It oozed out of his mouth and down his chin and neck. He lent over the little girl and it dripped onto her as well, making her cringe and whimper.

The tan Egyptian placed his bloodied hand onto the other and rubbed them around, smearing the blood evenly onto both and placed them against the opaque wall. Two clearly defined hand prints in crimson now marred the canvas. He licked his lips hungrily before curling his fingers except but one index finger. 'Guess who' slowly being written on the wall with bits and pieces of the lettering missing as he dragged the solo digit across the white.

The girl with Bakura nearly screaming now. Funny how he could hear silent screams now as if they were the loudest cry ever given off by a human. Perhaps it was like a dog whistle to dog... There was a chance and maybe it was only killers that would hear such delightful calls.

"Maybe I should chop off your arm?" Bakura taunted the girl, pulling another knife out of his combat boots. He always had at least five hidden on him. He never knew when he'd need them, for killing or for ... 'other' reasons. Bakura smirked at the thought, and traced the slightly dull blade across the crook of the girl's unmarred arm, almost lovingly if it hadn't been done with a knife. "Or maybe I should slit your throat." He cackled, leaning down further, dropping her arm and pressing the metal against her throat. "If I cut in the just the right place you can survive for more than ten seconds. But if I cut your jugular vein, well..." The white haired one giggled gleefully, "Then we really can paint these walls red."

"I'm liking the last option," Marik muttered as the blood on his hands was already dying into a sticky mess. "If this place is going to be our new hot spot for a while, then I don't see why we shouldn't decorate now and spruce it up a bit later on," he placed one hand on his hip, getting traces of the red life on his clothes, not that he minded it, really. Hell, an outfit was not worth wearing unless if had a bit of someone else on it somewhere... "Though I want to watch either way."

"You should've brought a gun. We could've blown her brains out and had them on the walls." Bakura told him, turning his gaze away from little Anna. "I could cut out her heart and stick it up with that knife I don't like anymore." He cocked his head to the side in thought, the knife in his hand idly moving against the little girl's flesh, creating small cuts. His attention was quickly drawn back to her, and he made a sharp decision to take the knife away from her throat and ram it into her stomach. Her painful shriek was so absolutely delicious that Bakura couldn't help but purr in content.

Marik leaned his head back and moaned at the sweet sound the girl gave off. "Do it again," he pressured as he lolled his head back into place, the shivers exiting his system shortly after. "Maybe I'll bring two next time and we'll shoot the bastards at the same time for maximum effect," like overkill on a small bunny using two shot guns. The only thing that would be even close to figuring out what the damn things had been would be its tail and ears, though with a human, it'd most likely be a jaw...

Grinning, Bakura twisted the knife in the oozing flesh, forcing even more high pitched shrieks and cries from their pretty little victim. He wondered how much longer he should torture the little piglet. He knew all the little places where he could stab and cut and maim and still their precious child would be alive. Call it a gift, and it made for excellent torture, even if he preferred to go straight for the kill. Cocking his head to the side once more, he studied the girl's expressions briefly before ripping out the knife and plunging it through her ribs, piercing one of her lungs. Once again, she screamed so prettily.

Oh gods, it felt heavenly to hear such beautiful screaming. How such a hellish act could make such a pure scream and sensation at the same time- Marik moaned again, then shook his head to relieve himself of the feeling. "Salt for your wounds?" The Ishtar mused out loud as he walked over to a table with slim pickings of a few choice supplies they had brought with them. "Or perhaps a few lemons?" What was the old saying again? When life gives you lemons- ah fuck, hell if he could remember it.

The knife was pulled out and Bakura could hear the little gurgle of the bubbling blood as the girl panted for breath. With the look of her now near-white skin and tired face, he knew she wouldn't last much longer. But, for once, he was delighting in torturing this little whelp. He glanced around at the floor and took notice of the pool of blood he now knelt in. His own tongue was healing over already, which disappointed him quite a bit. Feeling a bit nostalgic and a lot more insane, he dragged the knife across his eye, making a deep gash in his skin. He laughed rather evilly as he held the dripping metal over little Anna's lips and made her drink the blood. "Drink up, little whore." Bakura cackled. "It's the last thing you're gonna get to drink."

Marik had turned in time with a box of salt and dropped it at his feet when he took in what Bakura had done to his own face. What a fucked up action to pull, so damned demented and yet- all the blood, Bakura's blood to be exact... Running down his face and the blade, why was the girl the lucky one to get such a treat?! He growled lowly but stood in place. "Yes, drink up," he forced out, wanting to strangle the bitch some more. His mind still ranting to itself about how Bakura's blood was meant to be his, and no one else's... except well, Bakura's, but that was far from the point!

Bakura turned to Marik and giggled, knowing the other was jealous of the little girl for drinking his blood. But Bakura liked to do that. It make the after-sex all the more rough and violent, which was exactly the kind of sex he wanted. He gazed back at the girl, finally deciding he'd grown bored and felt she should die now. With Marik's growling, he could tell he was the one who wanted to finish her off. "She's all yours, Mariku~" He purred, standing up and licking the side of his face affectionately. He then picked up the box of salt and poured some into the girl's stomach, giggling at her weary shrieks.

Finally, it was time to end this miserable wretch's life. Little hoe-bag, stealing his Bakura's blood! Marik promptly kicked the child in the face after moving close enough to do so. The force nearly snapped her neck as he placed his booted foot back onto the cold cement flooring. "You little worthless fuck," he muttered. Of course, the girl was innocent of such things, but that did not stop him from running his mouth about her anyway. False tellings he made true in his mind as he shifted, placing his other foot onto her face and pressing down. Her skin was already bruising from all the foreplay they had done with her. "Tell Osiris I'm glad to be of service," the tan fellow whispered huskily as he knelt down, actually lowering his pressure on the girl's face, taking the knife Bakura had lent him to cut along raggedly into the pale neck till she could no long scream properly and her head was a little less then half off the neck. "Stupid little dumb fuck..."

Bakura pouted slightly. No more screams now. He off-handedly realized the cut across his eye was deeper than he thought, and the blood was still pretty much gushing down his face. It didn't hinder his vision much, he'd learned to see in the dark and shadows after all. Cracking his neck, he pulled Marik away from the lifeless corpse and forced their lips together, tongues warring, blood mingling. He moaned deep in his throat from the taste. He would never been able to get enough of it, or of the feeling, or the smells, or the general carnage they created. Pulling away, the blood-eyed thief grinned broadly. "Mariku~" He purred again. "Why do you get so jealous about my blood?"

Marik had wanted to do more but was wrenched away into a bloody kiss, the good kind, of course, where tongues mangled together, saliva and blood were swapped- too bad it ended by Bakura pulling away to ask a question. "Because if anyone makes you bleed, it should be me or you, and if anyone gets to taste it, it still is going to be me or you," he reasoned, spitting over to one side at the now lifeless corpse. "No one else is worthy of it, don't you see?"

A low chuckle escaped Bakura's throat. "Silly Mariku." He chided, licking his cheek again. "If you really want it that much..." He pulled yet another knife from his pants and pressed it into Marik's hand, "... then make me bleed." Bakura grinned, licking his lips, tasting the coppery-sweet red substance coating his skin. Oh, how he adored the taste of it.

With a steady hand, Marik accepted the new knife and grinned at his own reflection in the blade. "With pleasure," he chuckled, seemingly having forgotten their dead guest in the same room but, even if he did remember, he would not care. The blade soon found a new temporary home along the side of Bakura's cheek, making a fine cut that started to bubble with blood before running down, a long pink tongue making short work of cleaning up the wounded area. Such delicious liquid~ "Take off your shirt," he ordered more than requested of the other as he leaned back to look the thief over.

Instead of simply taking off the offending material, Bakura grabbed the neckline and tore it off. When Marik gave him a curious look, he simply shrugged and said nothing. He pulled his last knife from the back of his jeans, and seductively cut a line from his collar bones to his navel, hissing softly at the slight pain and pleasure of it. He could see Marik watching him hungrily, and he licked his lips in anticipation.

Oh yes, yes, yes~ Marik's mind purred in anticipation as the other moved his hand out of the way so he could see the ruddy substance run down the ivory skin. If there was an undiscovered god, it had to be this one, the sexiest of them all to boot. Without much hesitation, Marik was soon all over the thief, arms wrapped around the slender waist as he turned his head and licked up the freshly split open skin. Delicious and the perfect decoration to any body... The knife in his own hand began to run down the back of the other as his free hand run the opposite direction, dragging his fingernails across the white flesh. "I could use a bite," Marik purred still leaning his head one direction to expose what bit of his neck was not covered by golden jewelery.

Bakura couldn't resist such a pretty invitation, and so he reached his hands around Marik's neck and unclasped the gold choker, throwing it to the floor. He bared his teeth for a second or two, teasing the blonde, before quickly lunging forwards and biting Marik's neck fiercely, right over his jugular vein. Sharp, fang-like teeth tore at the tanned skin, pouring delicious red nectar into his mouth. He could feel Marik's throat vibrate under his grasp as the other moaned. With his knife in one hand while his mouth was preoccupied, he tore down the back of Marik's shirt and pulled the material off, tracing over the scars with his free hand.

Truly, Bakura was a sex fiend and a sex god of some sort, even if they weren't to the actual fucking yet. Fidgeting involuntarily, Marik jerked as the teeth sunk in deeper into his neck, forcing out a low groan of pleasure and pain. Oh, how the two went perfectly hand in hand. "Bakura," he purred the name effortlessly, dragging the knife diagonally across the pale back, this time a bit deeper, as if encouraging the other more, though he was really enjoying their crimson mess. "I think the next one should be a bit older," he muttered, referring to their next victim as he dropped the knife and ran his warm hands over the bleeding back, coating them with life.

Growling low at the thought of Marik being distracted by thoughts of future victims, he sunk his teeth in harder, doubling it by shoving him hard against the bloody wall and grinding their hips together roughly. The knife he held tore at Marik's belt and pants, ripping them down the side. He chuckled when he realised the Egyptian went commando, not that either of them wore anything underneath anymore. They just got in the way. With his free hand, he clawed at Marik's back with blunt nails, scratching over those delicious scars in an attempt to break them open again.

This was something Marik wouldn't realize until after their fun, that Bakura was pretty much going to leave him naked since he was ripping apart every piece of clothing the Egyptian had be wearing. Marik tilted his head back in a gasp as the fang sunk in harder, what had to said to piss the thief off? What- oh fuck... "Bakura," he moaned not meaning to do so as he reached up and tugged at the long silver hair roughly. "Don't kill me, damn it!" he hissed wanting to thrash about but knew better then to do so or he would be the result of his own death.

Releasing his hold on Marik's neck, Bakura lapped at the blood now pouring out of the wound, pretty much getting high and horny from the taste. He suspected blood didn't affect Marik like it did him, but it didn't matter. They both loved pain and torture, both to themselves and to others, which Bakura reminded Marik of by finishing tearing down the leg of his pants and bringing the knife up to the opposite side of Marik's neck, tracing over the flesh softly and almost lovingly. They slipped slightly against the blood-smeared canvas behind them, but it only served to heighten their arousal.

How lucky he wasn't cramped up in pants that would only be tightened by now, though this meant that his erection was now only painfully obvious, rather then hidden by a piece of sandy-hued fabric. "Not fair, you still have half of yours on," he retorted while reaching down and undoing the front of the other's pants. The blood running down his face and neck felt like fire, but it was a wondrous burning sensation that demanded he moan in appreciation, though he denied his instincts. "How am I to fuck you if you're hidden from me?"

"Who said anything about you fucking me, Mariku?" Bakura chuckled darkly, licking at his neck wound once more. But he didn't protest as his jeans were undone and pulled down. They fell to his ankles and he simply stepped out of them, having discarded his shoes and socks long before they got there. He dropped his knife to the floor and tangled his hands in Marik's wild blonde hair, pulling their heads together for a bloodthirsty and tantalizing tongue war.

Things were escalating quite rapidly now as the tongue war of dominance raged between the two, each determined to win, though at the same time they seemed to secretly enjoy the retaliation, and when the other was winning only to snap out of it and fight back more. The tan man's hands had slipped onto the pale shoulders, digging hard into them because they merely could and were free to do so. Leaning his hips up, Marik rocked against the other set of hips while still attempting to fight his way to victory in the tongue war. He at least wanted to win something between them.

Groaning gutturally, Bakura bit Marik's lower lip, once again drawing blood. But he felt that he was doing it all. Marik was so distracted by what he was doing that the knife in his hand was forgotten. Bakura felt the need to change that, and with his hands still tangled in the Egyptian's hair, he yanked them both to the floor and into the puddle of blood from their most recent victim. Bakura moaned at the feel of the life-liquid against his skin.

The sound of the other's voice, low and sultry, snapped him out of his daze as the Ishtar returned the gesture and clamped down onto the pale neck, sucking more then adding pressure with his jaws, their bodies getting coated with innocent blood, like a candied apple. Leaning his head back, Marik dragged his tongue along the flesh again and, sitting up, moved off the thief and picked the other male up by his legs, spreading them apart, clearly planning on being the pitcher for the night. "I think blood is probably the best lubricant we've got..."

Bakura smiled that psychotic smile he knew Marik loved. "It's always the best lube we've got." He giggled, wrapping his arms around Marik's neck and bringing him down for a slow kiss, sensually grinding their hips together and dragging his blunt nails down the blonde's ribs, very lightly tearing the skin.

Wondrous, this 'sinful' pleasure was. Hell, if this was a sin, then Marik would more than gladly pay the price for it. Marik grabbed onto the pale set of hips and began to rock himself against them teasingly, though he was more than willing to start right now with the real thing. "Come on, Baku-re, let me have you tonight, we can trade later~" He insisted while reaching down between the mess of legs and rubbing against the bloody groin of the other for persuasion. "You didn't seem to mind last time," he purred coaxingly.

"Mmmm, go on then." Bakura gave in, but he was in an uke-ish mood that night anyways. "Since you've been such a good boy and let me have my fun with that little piglet." He groaned in delight as Marik's ministrations, shifting his hips to gain more of the delicious friction that he craved more than blood at that moment. "Pleeease Mariku~" He begged. Yes, he was in that kind of mood, too, which was incredibly rare.

What a delicious sound, probably the only thing better than steak and blood, really. The blonde moved to position himself just right under the male so the other's ass was placed squarely over himself; this would be a strange and possibly uncomfortable position really, but fuck it- they both could complain later about it if necessary.

Bakura grumbled slightly at the strange position, but he had to admit they'd never tried it before, so he was welcome to new feelings and sensations. He ground his ass teasingly against Marik's crotch, giggling at the annoyed but horny look on his partner's face. "Get on with it then, lover-boy."

Leaning his head back up right from giving off a moan, Marik agreed without a second thought as he placed his hand in the cool blood and generously applied it to his cock and then the other's entrance before grabbing onto the pale leg and pushing himself into the hole, the girl's blood coating them both in more ways then they had originally planned, but oh well. No sense in letting innocent blood go to waste. The darker of the two began to rock himself up into the rump once in and pull the other back, repeating it several times before finding a rhythm he liked. "Yes," he purred as he continued on searching for the one spot he knew they both rather liked,

Bakura's head snapped back and his eyes rolled when Marik found that little wonderful bundle of nerves. "Oh fuuuuuck!" He moaned, grasping at whatever part of Marik he could reach. "Harder!" He screamed, turning his face to the side and smearing himself in the little girl's blood.

Happy to oblige, the other rocked even more into place, attempting to make each thrust hard though smooth in rhythm into the same location. His body started to perspire as he let his more animalistic nature take over, clawing at his lover's legs and thighs, purposefully trying to draw more life from them as he slammed hard into the nerves. His own head wanted to loll back as he groaned in ecstasy from it all, and the still surprisingly tight ass he was in making him all the more wild with his actions as his earrings wiggled to and fro from the rocking. "Yes, Bakura! Oh," he groaned, more than thrilled with the way things were going.

It didn't take too long before the constant ramming of that wonderful bundle was simply too much to bear, and Bakura was on a rapid descent towards losing it completely. His head tossed and turned, white hair being tainted by the blood on the floor, fingers scratching and clawing at every part of Marik that was in his grasp. Eventually, his back arched with a feline grace, his eyes rolled back, and he let out an almost primal scream as he found his release.

Marik was on the verge himself, though was not quite done with his partner as he grabbed onto the cum-covered cock and wrapped his hand around it, pumping it as if it were his own while he tried to keep rocking into the tight ass to keep pleasing himself. "Just a little longer, Baku-ra, for me~" He purred, devilishly enthralled by the sensations as he teased the tip of the member with his thumb. "I'm so close..."

Bakura almost whimpered at the still-constant thrusting. His body was overly sensitized and worn out from everything that had happened. But he held back his whimpers, and managed to move himself so he was sat up, and bit the healing wound on Marik's neck harshly.

That was the right push he needed. The bite sent that last wave to pleasure he craved and pushed him over the edge as he let himself go without much more of a warning other then a loud groan he didn't even bother to hide, his hand of course slowing down and stopping its actions on Bakura's cock. "That's the spot... Yes..." He mused to himself, letting his hands just rest on the other while he caught up with his own breathing.

Bakura chuckled breathily, allowing himself to wrap his arms around his partner while in a state of post-orgasmic bliss. He sighed in content as he felt Marik's thumbs just gently caressing his flesh. He felt like a boneless heap of a person, sagging in Marik's arms and laying his head on his chest. "Mmmm, that was fun." He observed, sounding sleepy.

"It usually is." Mostly when he was on top, but that was a mental note to himself, though, truthfully, he loved it either way. Bakura could break him so easily but, if anyone found that out, ugh, he could almost hear the others laughing at him. "Perhaps we should start selling blood as a lubricant, but not say what it is, exactly," he chuckled to himself at the very thought of selling such a thing to someone such as Yugi.

Bakura giggled very childishly. "The Pharaoh would have another reason to kill us." He mused. "Mm, now what do you say we get to somewhere with a bed? I'm all for sex on a concrete floor, but twice in a row really shreds my back." He grinned, cocking his head to the side like he did.

"Funny, I feel fine," Marik teased playfully, though as he picked himself up he ealized something. "You ruined my clothes! I'm going to walk out of here naked?!" He hissed bitterly, though he was still on a bit of his sex-induced high. "Damn it, Bakura, why do you always do that to me!?"

"Heat of the moment?" The white haired deviant shrugged, giggling at his partner's plight. "And it's not as if you haven't walked around the city naked before." He reminded him as he raised a suggestive eyebrow. "Besides, it's 2am, and these mortals have common sense not to walk around this particular area in the middle of the night." He tossed the blonde the long jacket he'd worn when they'd came in, but had taken off before their 'fun'. "Wear that if you're so bloody self-conscious."

Marik snorted, trying to keep up his peeved cover as he slipped the black jacket on and secretly loved it. The lovely strange scent of blood mixed Bakura's own unique smell was embedded into the fabric itself.

"No, it's getting cold and that last time was because I wanted to see if I could get away with it!" The spiky haired blonde protested, though he did have a fun time running around letting the world see his jollies, but it had also been a bit warmer then. "Let's just get out of here and leave the girl. I can get rid of her in the morning,"

Or just move her to a closet. Marik did have a nasty little habit of wanting to keep his victims' bodies around so he could look at them later and reminisce on how they were killed by his own hand.

(Yeah, this was actualy once an rp between me and a friend but it was modified slightly- anyway, I wrote the bits involving Marik, my friend did the Bakura parts. Easy right? Dear gods, please don't report me... I love this site too much to get thrown out! DX)


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